Page 104 of Breakaway Hearts

“Are you asking me to stop?” It’s not an offer, and honestly, I’d refuse.

Unless Madison was the one asking.

“No.” Jason sighs. “She’s a grown ass woman who can make her own decisions. And mistakes.” He gives me a look, which I’m assuming is meant to be intimidating, because I have to force myself not to squirm, but he pulls back, and I can just picture Maddie feeding him that line whenever he gets too protective. “I’m asking…you just better not hurt her.”

He says it like he means it more than the usual warning.

“Anything I should know?” I try not to pry, but it’s not like I can ask Madison when she insists it’s just sex between us.

“Not my story to tell.” Jason shrugs.

Chapter Forty-One

Madison

I maybe have trust issues

Itake a deep breath and look at myself in the mirror at Pruitt & Dobbs with my best ‘you’ve got this’ smile. I was warned today would be a more in-depth interview to further narrow down the candidate pool, so Owen and Jules have been quizzing me during my shifts at the shelter all week. I’m as prepared as I’m going to be.

“Fuck,” I hear from the stall behind me.

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

“Just my period on the day I chose to wear white. So much for my whole white hat thing.”

I’m not sure what she means, but I did come prepared. “I have tampons if you need them. Or I might have a pad somewhere.”

“Seriously?” she asks. “The tampon would be perfect.”

I pass her both under the door, just in case.

“You’re a godsend. There was a girl in the waiting room who saw the white suit and called me brave, so I’m pretty sure she cursed me.”

“Probably.” I shouldn’t encourage her, but I think she’s being sarcastic.

“I maybe have trust issues,” she admits, coming out to wash her hands and do a fit check.

“You’re good,” I assure her. “Or I can take a picture to show you.”

“God, that sounds insane, doesn’t it? I’ve just seen what some people will do for a spot in these places,” she says like she isn’t one of them.

“I’m probably not the person to ask,” I say instead of pointing that out. “I was literally researching physiological signs someone is lying the other day.”

“Oh, I just read an article on that. All the micro expressions, sweating, where they look…heart rates work better with intimate partners, but it’s crazy what you can see if you bother to look.”

I smile, because I felt like a paranoid freak when I wrote about it for the paper. Even more when I kept it serious instead of a fun ‘how to fool your partner’ piece.

“I’m Laura,” she tells me.

“Madison.”

“Fuck me, you’re Madison Finch.” She must see the panic on my face, because she quickly elaborates. “You wrote the article. The one I read. My cousin goes to Wynchester. She’s on the Lacrosse team?” She sounds unsure. “I subscribed to the newsletter to see how she’s doing.”

“That…I didn’t think anybody read it,” I admit.

“I loved it. And I forwarded the staying safe at parties one to her, in case she missed it. Got a terrible eye roll, but at least she read it.”

“That’s…thank you?” I’m not sure what the appropriate response is.